Valentine's Day, Snarky Style
by SpaceMonkey0941
Summary: Lydia Winter a.k.a. one of the most wonderful OCs ever created hates Valentine's Day. No surprises there. But will her opinion change when a certain astrophysicist steals her ice cream? You may be surprised. Lydia is BiteMeTechie's.


A/N: Written for good ol' St. Valentine's Day (and because I have no life). Lydia is BiteMeTechie's, and both of them are my heroes (yes Techie, I can see you blushing like an idiot) so go read Retribution! and Retribution!Revisited and send Techie some cybercookies. Go. Send. Now.

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Oh. My. God.

This is _so_ disgusting you would not believe it.

Shudder.

The entire Gateroom is decorated with . . . eurgh . . . _fluffy pink and red hearts_.

I don't even want to know what the ambassadors from Kalana will think when they 'gate in this afternoon for their conference with Dr. Weir.

Blech. I _hate_ pink.

Well, at least I won't have to see any of this much longer, as soon as I grab some ice cream from the commissary I'll be holed up in my lab, watching sappy movies and having a nice self-pity-wallowing session with Schmendrick, my teddy bear.

Argh. Stupid Valentine's Day.

Who needs a boyfriend, anyhow?

I shut my eyes against the horrific colors and head for the food.

Muttering a "hi" to Mick, the kitchen assistant, I stalk angrily past Chef Alex, who is apparently "thanking" Radek Zelenka for her Valentine's gift.

They should seriously get a room.

But at last my objective is in sight, and I near the freezer, hoping to God that nobody's snagged that last half-gallon of Chocolate Therapy.

Oh good, it's still where I so cunningly hid it, behind the frozen fishsticks and Brussels sprouts. I wanted to make sure it would still be there.

Suddenly, as I reach for it, I feel a rush of air next to my ear and the carton is snatched away from my outstretched fingers.

Semi-unbelieving that someone would _dare_ to get between me and ice cream, I turn slowly, ready to inform the evildoer of their fatal mistake.

Oh.

That explains it.

"Looking for this?" Rodney smirks as he waves the ice cream tantalizingly in front of my face. I gape, then the grasp of the situation makes its way into my brain.

"McKay," I start to growl, but then he surprises me and holds up two spoons.

"Come on, I've already got chips and soda," he says, as he turns away.

Er. This is strange . . . but he's got the ice cream, so I follow him, thinking at least I can find some place to ambush him and steal the food.

We make our way past Alex and Radek, who are still . . . um . . . occupied, and when we reach a transporter, Rodney punches the button nearest his lab.

"Uh, Rodney?" I finally manage to ask, as we step out of the transport to find a slightly-less-pink hallway.

He turns towards me, an expectant expression on his face, and for some reason, I can't say anything. He looks so . . . happy. His eyes are kind of sparkly, like when he's just figured out a particularly difficult piece of Ancient technology, and he's _smiling_ for God's sake.

Rodney McKay, smiling.

Will wonders never cease?

I bite back what I was going to say, and awkwardly murmur, "I've got a few movies in my lab if you're interested."

His smile widens and he looks down sheepishly. "I've already got 'Sleepless in Seattle', 'When Harry Met Sally', and 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'." he says, adding hastily "But don't tell Sheppard," when he sees my look of utter disbelief. "I'd never hear the end of it."

"You'll never hear the end of it now," I mutter, just loud enough for him to hear, and we both laugh a little.

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We get to his lab and he palms the door open, gesturing for me to enter first.

I go in, expecting the normal OCD-neatness, but I'm greeted with a very strange sight.

All the desks and chairs are pushed haphazardly over to one of the large computer banks, and there's a . . . oh wow . . . a 64-inch plasma TV in the middle of the room, facing a chintz-covered couch with fluffy cushions.

I turn to him, one eyebrow raised to its limit.

He blushes. "The couch is Dr. Heightmeyers," he mutters. "I sort of . . . borrowed it for the evening."

Wow. This guy is deep. First he steals my ice cream, then he steals the shrink's couch? And he's alive to tell of it!

I may have to marry him.

But I won't tell _him_ that, of course.

We're about to sit down on the couch, when I suddenly remember something. I clap a hand to my forehead.

"Schmendrick!" I exclaim, berating myself for leaving him all alone, and on Valentine's Day no less.

Rodney's looking at me funny. Or, well, funnier than usual.

I hurriedly get up and head for the door, motioning him to stay seated.

"Don't worry, I'll be right back," I call over my shoulder as I sprint to my lab.

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In a record forty-seven seconds, I'm back, with one arm around my well-loved teddy bear and one carrying my prized possessions: Men In Black, Men In Black Two, and all of the Lord Of The Rings DVDs. I also brought my emergency chocolate stash.

I burst into the room to find him pacing the floor. He looks so relieved to see me I feel bad for leaving him alone. I make my excuses.

"Sorry, I just couldn't leave Schmendrick alone on Valentine's Day," I say, then mentally shoot myself. Way to make the guy who thinks you're nuts think you're even _more_ nuts, Lydia. Smooth.

But apparently he's just glad I'm back, because he waves my apologies aside, helps me put the DVDs down, and leads me over to the couch.

Offering me a spoon and the carton of ice cream, he whips out a remote and expertly pushes the power button.

As the strains of "Moon River" reach my ears, Rodney seems to come to a decision. He puts his arm around my shoulders, hesitantly at first, then as I lean into him, he relaxes and I can tell he's still smiling.

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Three tearjerkers later, we're well into Fellowship and I'm really really enjoying myself. Hunh. Who'da thunk? Valentine's Day, and Lydia Winter's not alone. I'm telling you, the apocalypse is definitely coming.

"Lydia?" I hear as we reach the end of the first disc.

"Mm?" I respond, snuggling further into Rodney and the blanket he so thoughtfully threw over me during "When Harry Met Sally".

He doesn't respond, so I look up, just in time for him to kiss me.

Sigh.

This guy really knows how to make an evening perfect. I've got my ice cream, my teddy bear, my sob stories, my Tolkien . . . my Rodney.

I think I'm finally happy.

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A/N: -sniffles- GOD I hate Valentine's Day, although you might not get that from this. Valentine's Day is when I used to spend _hours_ cutting out those cute little red hearts to make into cards for everyone in my class, and then the candy we'd get would be stale from two years ago. -shudders- But it's a chance for Snarky shipping, therefore I'll put up with it.

A/N2: Alex and Mick are Reefgirl's, except that I steal them constantly and have fun writing for them. You should try it, it's very theraputic. For instance, just this morning I posted a Valentine's Day 'fic starring Alex, in which . . . oh . . . I guess instead of telling you the plot you could just go read it, couldn't you? That way you could review it too.

A/N3: Subtle? Who, me?


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